The Tale of Jak Leonin
by JakLeonin
Summary: This story is a long, episodic adventure intended to further explore the world established by Robert Jordan. It is initially set 235 years before the events of the series, and the years will advance as the series progresses. Nothing in this series will contradict the established canon, and it will actively seek areas and themes which were not explored in the series.
1. Chapter 1: A Touch

Sweat dampened Jak Leonin's face despite the cold. That was dangerous, he knew; sweat could freeze in a Malkieri spring. He took the kerchief from under his coat where he was keeping it warm and mopped his face. His face once again safely dry, he replaced the kerchief and returned to work. Hoeing in ground that still felt winter was never easy, but the weeds had to go if they were to plant cabbages. A horn sounded to the north; the nearby border fort signaling that trollocs were coming. There was no hesitation as he dropped the hoe and ran to the house. He had been through this far too many times for any uncertainty to remain. He was past his eighteenth nameday, had been training with a sword for ten years, and he was plenty experienced to face trollocs, but he still did not wear the hadori and that meant he would protect his mother and sister.

As he ran to the house, his father ran the other way. Noal Leonin did wear the hadori, and he would band together with the neighbors to herd the trollocs toward the soldiers. Jak had seldom seen trollocs get as far as the house, and that had only been a few stragglers, but trolloc raids still filled him with exhilaration. Running across fields he had already emptied of weeds, he reached the house quickly. His mother and sister had been through this before, too; they knew what to do. Wordlessly, his mother opened the door to let him in, then bolted it shut behind him. Ellen handed him his bow and a bristling quiver, and he climbed up the stairs to the roof.

A trolloc horn sounded, indicating that they had spotted someone. Based on where it was, that would be the farmers. The spotted party would be running towards the anvil now, with the farmers who hadn't been spotted setting traps to bloody and slow the trollocs along the way. If the trollocs caught up to the bait, there would be losses. An hour passed and Jak waited. No stragglers this time; they must have a myrddraal. Finally, the soldiers sounded their horn. That meant the trollocs and soldiers had met. It would be over soon. Jak sighed in relief when the horn sounded again, signaling victory. He still had to wait for his father to return before he could climb down, but it wouldn't be long now.

Jak was just starting to worry when he spotted someone coming through the trees. It was two someones, actually, and bearing a litter. Jak didn't think. In a flash he was on the ground and running toward the litter; he must have jumped off the roof. Not even a minute passed before he reached them. His father was in that litter. It was soldiers who carried him, and he looked to be in bad shape. There was only one small cut on his arm that Jak could see, but there had to be some other, worse, injury elsewhere. Jak didn't want to think of what it meant if that scratch was the reason his father's face was covered in sweat. The soldiers made him think of it anyway.

"Had a myrddraal, they did," said the front soldier. "A good chunk of them were linked to it. Your father's a hero, Jak." Almost no one survived being a hero when a myrddraal was involved.

"A hero," Jak responded numbly. He fell in beside the litter without another word. He should have wanted to charge into the Blight and kill all of the trollocs and myrddraal. He should have at least wanted to cry, but for some reason he was just numb. The ko'di sprang up unbidden, and thought fled just as emotion had. The soldiers tried to joke with him, to snap him out of it, and he responded automatically. The soldiers went quiet as Noal started mumbling. The mumblings were too quiet to understand, but there was no comfort the soldiers could offer now. Noal was having fever dreams.

They reached the house, and Jak's mother opened the door. Her face was white as a sheet, and horror was clear in her eyes. Ellen was weeping openly. His mother cleared the table hurriedly, and the soldiers set Noal down on it. "I'm sorry for your loss," one of the soldiers said. "Noal was a good man, and taking a myrddraal with him… We sent for a Wise Woman to make him as comfortable as possible. She should be here soon. I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do." With that, the soldiers awkwardly shuffled out the door.

"Well, I suppose I should get a kettle boiling in case the Wise Woman needs it," said Jak's mother, breaking the silence. "Ellen, make yourself useful and fetch some water from the well. I'm sure your father would tell you to stop sulking. He died fighting, and did better than most would if he managed to take down a myrddraal. There's no shame in that kind of death. Get moving now." His mother was looking a lot better now that she was giving orders, and so did Ellen, for that matter. Even Jak was cheered slightly by the sight of it. He sat up straighter as he watched his mother and sister leave the room.

"Always liked Uncle Bukama," Noal's voice had gained strength, and his mumblings were audible now. "Everyone liked Bukama. He was a good soldier, and he had an uncanny luck about him." Jak's great uncle had joined the Malkieri army. He had been well known as a soldier, but his father never talked much about him. He had died in a trolloc raid.

"Why is he doing this? Why won't he trust his friends? Those two soldiers…. Why would Bukama kill them? He said they were Darkfriends, but they always seemed nice. Doesn't he see that we're trying to help him?" Bukama killing other soldiers? Jak had never heard of this. "The ground! The ground is shaking! Dad, what's going on? Cadsuane Sedai is here! She'll set everything right; she's an Aes Sedai. The ground stopped shaking! Cadsuane Sedai must have done something. Dad, is Uncle Bukama going to be gentled?" By the time Jak's father quieted, Jak was horror stricken for reasons that had nothing to do with his father dying. Great Uncle Bukama had been a man who could channel? Light, but this couldn't be true. It had to have been just a fever dream.

Now Jak _needed_ his father to live. If Noal would just live through this, Jak could ask him and confirm that Bukama had died at the hands of trollocs. The idea that there had been a man who could channel in his family was too much to deal with. If Jak could just imagine Noal getting better, maybe he would. That was irrational, but at this point Jak didn't care. He squeezed his father's hand. He imagined the poison receding, Noal's heartbeat getting stronger. He imagined he could _hear_ his father's heartbeat, instead of just feeling it through his hand. His fantasy was every bit as vivid as reality. It was more vivid! It seemed like he could see every detail of the world around him. He felt cold, and at the same time he was on fire. His fantasy collapsed, and with it went ko'di. He hadn't realized he had assumed it. Light, but he was tired; he felt like he had run a hundred leagues! He collapsed, head on his father's chest. Was Noal's breathing more regular than it had been?

Jak was wakened by a knock on the door. He got up and opened it just as his mother and Ellen entered the room. It was Merien, the village Wise Woman. "Thank you for coming, Wise Woman," Jak said, inclining his head slightly. "My father…"

"I'll see what I can do, Jak, but you know I can't make any promises with this type of injury." Merien walked over to the table and felt Noal's head for a fever. She seemed puzzled, and put her head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat and breathing. Even more confused, she started looking him over for any signs of injury.

"The myrddraal cut him here, Wise Woman," Jak said, grabbing the cut arm. Then he was even more confused than Merien; the cut was gone.

"What foolishness is this?" Merien demanded. "This man isn't even hurt. There isn't a thing wrong with him!"

"I swear, Wise Woman, the soldiers brought him in on a litter. He had a cut on his arm and he was having fever dreams. The soldiers saw him fight the myrddraal!"

"Well, either you're mistaken or the Light chose to give you a miracle. Your father's just a little tired. He'll be back on his feet in a few hours. Now if you'll excuse me, I have patients who actually need my help."

The door closed to complete silence. No one seemed to know how to deal with the sudden knowledge that a miracle had occurred. After a few minutes, Ellen started laughing. She was joined by her mother, and Jak started laughing as well. There was nothing else to do now that the impossible had happened. "Well," his mother said, "He'll be wanting to be in his own bed when he wakes up. Ellen, Jak, why don't you pick him up and move him there, and I'll start fixing dinner. There's some beef we've been saving for a special occasion, and I'd say this qualifies."

As Jak and Ellen carried their father to his room, Ellen tried to start a conversation. "I can't believe Dad killed a myrddraal. That makes him a Dreadbane now! Great Uncle Bukama was a Dreadbane too; I heard some soldiers talking about it in the village once. Maybe you'll be like them, Jak. Maybe you could become a soldier and kill myrddraal."

"Someone has to take care of the farm, Ellen. I'm the only son Dad has, and I'm going to carry on his legacy." Inwardly, he cringed. _Maybe you'll be like Great Uncle Bukama._ That had to have been just a fever dream. As they set their father down in his bed, Jak pulled up a chair. "I think I'll sit here and wait for him to wake up. He'll want someone to explain what happened, after all."

"For not wanting to be a soldier, Jak, you sure do laze about like one," Ellen retorted. "If you had your way you'd sit around all day while I did all the chores. Why-" Jak was saved from his sister's tirade as their mother called for Ellen to help with supper. "Coming mother!" Ellen shouted in reply. She shot Jak a glare and dashed up the stairs without another word.

Jak sat in the chair and felt his eyes try to close almost immediately. _No,_ he thought. _I need to stay awake until dad wakes up._ He focused on his breath, and tried to convince himself that if he fell asleep he would stop breathing. Maybe the fear would keep him awake. They said the look of the eyeless is fear, and Jak couldn't imagine anyone falling asleep near a myrddraal. How had Noal survived that cut? He should have died, with no Aes Sedai nearby to heal him.

Jak looked around at the gruesome scene. He was near the blightborder, and the groans of the dying drew him. He didn't wear the hadori, so his job was to find those who could be saved. He had been given instruction on which wounds were too severe; he was to mark people with those wounds as dead and move on. He found another victim of the myrddraal, another tiny scratch that left the poor man sweating and convulsing. He drew an x on the man's cheek with another man's blood and whispered "May the last embrace of the Mother welcome you home." He moved on, another tear joining the many that dripped down his cheeks.

Everywhere around him people were screaming, and he could only help some of them. It was unfair; an Aes Sedai could have helped them. The One Power was a powerful tool, and only a few fools who spent their time meddling in Daes Dae'mar were allowed to wield it. Any man who used it went mad and died, but women stayed away from the places where men were injured. The Dark One hadn't just tainted Saidin; he had ended an age when no one died of sickness or injury.

He felt a stabbing pain as something sharp broke his skin. It barely cut him at all, but the metal was colder than ice could ever be and hotter than the sun all at once. It felt as though it stabbed into every part of him, and deeply. He summoned ko'di and turned around. He felt weak and fell to his knees before the myrddraal. It just stood there, laughing at him, knowing its prey was dead. Jak drew his dagger and lunged at it, a fit of rage ripping ko'di to shreds. He leapt out of his chair and was caught by his startled father.

"Well, now," Noal said. "There's no need to get violent. It _was_ funny after all. I had just woken up in my bed, fully dressed, to find you here no doubt waiting to explain why. It would have been a noble sentiment if it hadn't been your snoring that woke me up!"

"I guess I must have dozed off," Jak said sheepishly. "I've had a bit of a stressful day wondering if you would survive. You were injured by a myrddraal."

"A myrddraal now? Well that's something. I suppose I should thank the Aes Sedai who saved me. Where is she?"

"There was no Aes Sedai, Dad. You just recovered on your own. The Wise Woman thought we were pulling a prank on her. Mother said she was cooking up that beef tonight, in honor of you now being a Dreadbane. Should we go see if it's done?"

"I suppose so," Noal responded. "I feel like my stomach is trying to eat through my middle, and talk of beef just gave it extra motivation." As the two headed upstairs, Jak thought about how he could bring up Uncle Bukama. He eventually decided that he would ask the next day, after his father had had some rest.


	2. Chapter 2: A Stunt

Jak opened his eyes in the night. It was time to go for a walk. He swung his legs off of his bed and hopped to his feet. He was excited about something, but he didn't know what. He quickly put pants and a shirt on over his smallclothes, put on his boots, and grabbed a coat. He also took his knife; he wouldn't need anything else. Silently, he slipped out of the house. Once out the door, he started walking to the north. He soon left the farm behind and passed into the sparse trees. It wasn't long before he left those behind too, and a border fort came into view.

He knew he could get by the fort; there hadn't been a trolloc raid in nearly two weeks, and the soldiers were bound to have relaxed their guard somewhat. Still, they were Malkieri and not likely to let their guards down far. He crouched and followed the curves of the land, circling around to avoid getting too close. When the hills didn't provide enough cover, he crawled. It would not do to be seen. If he were seen he wouldn't be able to see the excitement.

Eventually he reached the blightborder. He picked a direction that felt right, and kept walking. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he knew he would find it eventually. He passed rotting plants, but few dangers this near the blightborder. He hadn't gone too far before a light came into view. He got close to it, sneaking to avoid being seen by the source of the light, and he knew that this was where he would find the excitement. It was a trolloc camp. He grinned and snuck closer.

Soon he found himself very close indeed, a mere ten paces from the nearest trolloc. All of the guards were asleep. Typical behavior for trollocs, but all of them? His grin got wider. He moved more quietly than he ever had before in his life and got right up to the nearest trolloc. It was a boar-faced thing, and he was glad he couldn't see its too-human eyes. Those eyes snapped open as he slipped his knife into the trolloc's throat, ensuring that it couldn't cry out. Jak controlled the beast's spasms to reduce noise and held his breath. None of the other trollocs woke up.

He repeated this procedure with the other sentries. It was exhilarating, killing trollocs in their sleep, never knowing if one would wake up in the night. Once all of the sentries were dead, he knew he should get out of there. He knew he should never have come in the first place and that staying would be incredibly foolish. He knew all of this, but he couldn't convince his legs to move away from the camp. He also knew how to do still more damage. Striding towards the fire, he looked around at the trollocs, all strewn about on their bedrolls; even trollocs knew better than to sleep directly on the ground in the blight. Those bedrolls would burn well. Jak knew he would have to be stealthy for this. The trollocs were bound to be panicking, which would help, but they would also be awake and some of them would be searching for him.

He was terrified of what he was doing, but although his mind had woken up, his body still hadn't. His hand was steady as he pulled a burning stick from the fire, and his face still held a grin. He walked to the nearest trolloc, crouched low, and lit the corner of the bedroll on fire. There was no time to lose. He moved like the wind between bedrolls, lighting each in turn. Soon half of the camp was on fire, as some of the trollocs had spread the flame in their panic.

The trollocs weren't the only ones panicking; Jak had finally regained control of himself. He imagined a flame, not hard with flames all around him, and fed his panic into it. His shaking legs steadied, and he moved as quickly and quietly as he could to get away from the trolloc camp. Unfortunately, some of the trollocs had collected themselves as well. One of them spotted him, and Jak began sprinting for his life. He knew that wouldn't work, that trollocs were much faster than he was, but if he could at least get a little ways away from the camp before they caught him he might only have to face a few. _Only a few_ , he thought, _and all I have is a knife._

* * *

The blight had been quiet for nearly two weeks, but Gyalsen had a hunch. He had ordered his men to be especially watchful tonight, and he was only a bit surprised when one of his lookouts addressed him. "Commander Maranellin," the lookout said, "I see a light less than two miles north of the blightborder. It is much larger than I would expect trollocs to make."

Gyalsen went over to take a look and reached the same conclusion. It was likely a sign of disorder within a trolloc camp. There were things in the high passes that made such lights, but they never came this far south. "Send out a group of riders," he said. "We need to find whoever thought it was a good idea to attack trollocs at night and bring them back for an earful."

* * *

Jak heard hoof beats ahead of him in the distance. Some trollocs had hooves. Had they circled around to cut him off? They could have easily just run him down. Were they toying with him? He ran straight for the hoof beats, knife in hand. Maybe he could startle them enough that he could slip away. The hoof beats came toward him, and Jak was surprised to see that they were from horses, with men on their backs. Three of the horsemen rode past him and attacked the trollocs, while others rode to the sides and one stopped in front of him. They were soldiers from the border fort. "Are you alone?" the soldier asked.

"Yes, sir," Jak replied.

"Commander Maranellin will be wanting to speak with you. Hop on," Ordered the soldier. Jak obeyed immediately, and frantically started trying to think of what to say to the commander. Off in the blight by himself, after dark, and found near a trolloc camp. This did not bode well. The soldier spurred his horse into action, and soon they caught up to the three soldiers who had gone after the trollocs. "What's the situation?"

"We found the camp in flames. There are quite a few dead trollocs there, no less than half a dozen with slit throats. It looks like it was an entire fist, but there's no sign of a myrddraal. Around a dozen of the trollocs died from whatever chaos set their camp ablaze, and the rest were either killed by us or scattered. They made easy kills, running around like that. I killed four myself. Is that the only person you found?"

"He claims to be alone. Did you find anything to indicate he might be lying?"

"There was only one trail of boot prints that would have fit a person, but it's bloody impressive if he caused all that chaos by himself."

"For now we'll take him at his word. If the trollocs are dispersed and we have the one who dispersed them, we should head back. Go collect the others and meet us back at the fort." With that, he turned to the south and went to a canter. "What's your name, son?"

"Jak. Jak Leonin," he answered.

"Noal's son?" the soldier asked, clearly impressed. "Light, your father kills a myrddraal and you wipe out a fist of trollocs. Next your sister will become an Aes Sedai!"

"Am I going to be in a lot of trouble? No matter how well it ended, I did sneak out after dark and go into the blight alone."

"Oh, I don't think so," the soldier responded. "We were all boys once, trying to prove we were ready for the hadori. Commander Maranellin is no exception and I'm sure he'll go easy on you. After all, your stunt went a lot better than some of mine." After a short while, the other seven soldiers joined them. The ride back to the border fort was rife with jokes, especially after the other soldiers learned Jak was Noal's son.

When they reached the fort, the other seven soldiers broke off and the one who had picked Jak up – Chodak, Jak learned – accompanied him to where the commander was waiting. Chodak made his report. "Sir, a fist of trollocs had made camp a bit less than two miles north of the blightborder. They had no myrddraal, or they probably would have attacked tonight. We found their camp in flames, and the trollocs in extreme disarray. A dozen and a half were dead by the time we got there, and we killed another ten or so. The remainder fled further into the blight and we thought better than to pursue them. This boy, Jak Leonin, snuck out after dark and stumbled upon their camp. He killed all of their sentries with only his knife, and then set their camp on fire before making a hasty retreat. He was alone, and he is unharmed. None of us were injured in the rescue."

Commander Maranellin broke out in incredulous laughter. "Light! The boys are getting ambitious in their stunts nowadays. Not even wearing the hadori, and he's no doubt disappointed there wasn't a myrddraal for him to kill. Trying to outdo his father already, and nearly succeeding. What are we poor soldiers to do when you and your father empty the blight for us?" His laughter subsided with a few last chuckles, and he got a more serious look. "In all seriousness, Jak, you know you shouldn't be wandering around at night, and especially not in the blight. How did you even get that far undetected? You would have had to put some effort into it to avoid letting us see you."

"I don't know what I was thinking, sir. I just wasn't in control of myself. As to how I got by, I circled around to avoid getting too close and I crawled when the hills weren't tall enough."

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised. You've always seemed to have a head on your shoulders so far, but your great uncle Bukama was a legend with all of his stunts. Perhaps it runs in the family." He turned to Chodak. "Bring someone along and take Jak back to his family. Make sure to explain what happened to his parents, but don't bother much with the irresponsibility of it; they don't need us to tell them how to raise their son."

"Yes sir," Chodak said with a salute. He signaled Jak to follow him, and collected another soldier on the way out. They borrowed a third horse for Jak, and together they rode back to Jak's house. Chodak filled the other soldier in on Jak's stunt along the way, much to the soldier's amusement. By the time they reached Jak's house it was nearly dawn, and Jak's parents were outside waiting on an explanation.

Chodak opened immediately with respectful greetings for a Dreadbane and his wife, and followed quickly with a heroic tale of how Jak had single-handedly wiped out an entire fist of trollocs. "Mistress Leonin, Dreadbane, your son has been on quite the adventure tonight. Without a trace of fear, Jak ventured into the blight. Alone and practically unarmed, not to mention in near complete darkness, he found himself with trollocs only a stone's throw away. Lesser men would have retreated at this point, but not the son of a Dreadbane. Armed only with his knife, he knew he had to be stealthy. The slightest noise would alert the ever-watchful trollocs at their posts." Jak's father snorted at that, and his mother rolled her eyes, but they were clearly amused.

"Silent as the night itself, Jak crept upon the first of the sentries. Without hesitation, he plunged his knife into its throat and moved on to the next one. Once all of the guards were dead, he took a stick from their fire and began setting the camp ablaze. He knew that this would alert the trollocs, and he had no way to be certain there would be a rescue, but none of that mattered to him. He knew that with their camp destroyed and with the ensuing chaos and death, that fist would be unable to raid Malkieri farms. Spotted, Jak ran like the wind to escape the horde that pursued him. A hero he might be, but not even a hero can slay an entire fist of trollocs with only a knife.

"Luck was with him, for he didn't need to face them all. From the distant border fort, our ever-vigilant lookouts spotted the burning camp. The great Commander Maranellin sent eight riders to save the hero who dared face the trollocs in their own camp. I led those riders, and ride we did. We came upon Jak, ready to defend himself if we turned out to be trollocs, and we scooped him up as we engaged and dispersed what remained of the horde. In the end, the entire fist of trollocs was slaughtered or routed, and we returned to our fortress victorious."

Noal gave a laugh, but it was clearly to appease Chodak. There was only relief in those eyes. "I can only imagine what my son will get up to next. Thank you for bringing him back to me. Will you stay for breakfast?"

"Thank you for the offer Dreadbane, but we cannot. We have to return to our duties. There will be food for us at the border fort." The soldiers turned away, and rode north at a trot. Jak turned to his parents and braced himself for a stern lecture.

He was surprised when instead of a lecture, his father embraced him in a hug. His parents assured him that they were just glad he was alright, but there was still something gnawing at him, something he still hadn't worked up the courage to ask. He asked now. "Father, how did Great Uncle Bukama die?"

"We've told you, son," said his father. "He died in a trolloc raid. What brought this up?"

"You said some things," Jak said. "You were having fever dreams, and you mentioned him."

Jak's father sighed. "Come inside, Jak. This is going to be a bit of a long story and it won't do to tell it out here in the cold." They went inside, where Ellen had just finished putting breakfast on the table, and they all sat down. "I suppose you should hear this too, Ellen. Come to think about it, I haven't told this to your mother either. I guess I have some explaining to do, Nacelle."

"Uncle Bukama _did_ die in a trolloc raid, but part of him died long before that raid. He was a fine soldier, you all know that, and you all know he had extraordinary luck. People always wanted to go with him because his party always came back. He could always tell when shadowspawn were nearby, even before the sentries saw anything. What you don't know is that all of that came from his ability to channel. When he finally went mad, he killed two of his best friends. He started seeing everyone as Darkfriends, and we confronted him as a town. We didn't know at the time that he could channel, but we found out very quickly when he caused an earthquake.

"Things would have ended very badly for us had there not been an Aes Sedai on hand. Cadsuane Sedai was freshly raised, but that didn't stop her. She had Uncle Bukama cut off from Saidin in seconds, and took him out of town faster than anyone could blink. She took him to Tar Valon to be gentled, and I don't know what she said to him but he fared far better than most men do. He eventually came back, permanently cut off from the source, and he had learned to live with and overcome his madness. He died protecting complete strangers in a trolloc raid, and that's what everyone chose to remember him for. We stopped talking about his channeling, and gave him a funeral fit for the great man he was."

No one seemed to know what to say to that. Jak's father looked everyone in the eyes as if to challenge them to call him out on speaking well of a man who could channel. When no one spoke, he stood and broke the silence. "Well, I'm going to go back to tending the farm. Jak, get some sleep. You must be tired after spending all night killing trollocs, and I won't have you working my farm if you can't even stand up straight." Once Noal was gone, Jak got up and went to bed without another word. He fell asleep the second he hit the covers.


End file.
